When We Were Young

I talked to her about our past, today.

We talked about the night we watched fireworks together. I was maybe fifteen, she was maybe sixteen. We laid on the grass, our fingers barely touching, stroking. It was electric. No one knew anything was going on, but for both of us it was unforgettable. It was the first time I had felt anything like it. To this day, I've only experienced something similar with one other person. She remembers the intensity too...and realizing, to our amazement, that someone could barely touch you somewhere, and you could feel it everywhere.

We talked about the first time we kissed. I was twenty-one, she was twenty-two. We were on my mom's front porch, and I was intoxicated by the way she was looking at me. Before I could stop myself, I kissed her...and before I could process what was happening, her mouth was on my neck. She had me pressed against the wall, and all I could do was marvel at the fact that I was so...done. I wanted her. She had me. I would have followed her anywhere that night.
She remembers exactly what she was wearing, and exactly the way it felt. She told me it's funny how the important moments in your life are just frozen like that, in perfect detail.

I feel that way about her, to this day...there is still that passion, the excitement, the crazy devotion. When I see her signed into facebook, I feel this sudden...arousal, I guess is the term. The shape of her name, typed out like that...the simple beauty of it elicits an immediate emotional and physical reaction. When she and I get in the car together, I feel like we could quite literally go anywhere...like I want to keep driving. When she sings along to the radio, our kids in the back seat...I feel such a sweet, calm peace. Happiness.

I know she's not mine. I know it's no use.

So...what is this all for?